(no subject)
Another project that I want to continue. I found it in my laptop; didn't even know I wrote this, lol, forgive me. Read on if you want, but I warn you, this isn't edited and might be slightly confusing/illogical idek.
7 years ago
This story starts in an airport- perhaps a location a little too cliche, what with the lovers reuniting in each other's arms, mothers and fathers crouching down to ruffle their son's or daughter's head, giving them a sweet kiss on the forehead (the more passionate ones saved for their spouse, and thankfully, only later, when the children have been put to bed) and strangers, lunging to grab a suitcase and apologizing, sorry, I think you've got the wrong luggage, their fingers touching, enough to send a spark, an interest and an excuse to look at each other.
In this case, our strangers do not meet each other. At least, not in the airport; not yet, it's too soon. Not formally either because they will not realize that this is already their cue.
Stephane clutched for dear life as his sister swerved into the small space between two cars. He valued life, especially when it was his sister who was behind the wheel. He got out, holding onto the strap of his messenger bag, as if he was still in the car.
"Maman better not know you drive like that," he kidded. "Goodness knows how many times my heart jumped right onto the dashboard."
"Shut up Stephane!" Sylvia scrunched up her nose, in the same manner someone with her age would if they had to miss out the latest episode of whatever it is kids her age watched just to drive their older brother to the airport.
Stephane merely chuckled and leaned in to ruffle his sister's hair. "Take care," he said. Sylvia stuck out her tongue and Stepane stuck out his, in retaliation. Once he got his duffel bag, he waved good bye as she pulled out and drove back into the road, honking at a couple of cars to get out of the way as she sped up. Stephane waited until he couldn't see her car anymore before turning to enter the airport. He adjusted the camera resting against his chest and nodded at the guards after they frisked him.
--
New York.. New York- ah there! Stephane looked at his ticket and back at the digital board. Thirty minutes before boarding time. Stephane took a seat on one of the plastic chairs and tinkered with the camera settings. He (cam thing) and used it to look around, surveying the people around him. On another row, a man and his son? nephew? were seated, both peering at the little boy's PSP. He turned around and there was a young lady, indulging a last minute phone call. Stephane pointed his camera at the boarding gate.
There, facing opposite the gates, was a man, who looked like his age. Big, round shades hid his eyes. He had earphones on, which probably meant he was tapping his foot in time with the music, although to Stephane, it looked like he was stomping the ground, trying to break the cement.
He clicked his camera and took a few experimental shots. If he was careful, he would have enough film to last him until the rest of the trip. When he looked up, Big Shades was seated across him. His shades was pushed back as a headband, revealing green eyes. Not to mention watery, but Stephane did not think he had the right to ask if he was all right.
Big Shades looked right back at him, an eyebrow perched in a haughty manner, that made Stephane realize he was staring. With a sheepish grin, he averted his eyes, trying to forget how attractive he actually found Big Shades.
--
Stephane stretched in the limited space of the airplane comfort room. He was a restless person and cramped spaces made him feel so tiny. There was a knock on the door; Stephane contemplated lieing that he was taking a shit but that sounded disgusting. With a weary sigh, he opened the door to reveal Big Shades minus the shades and that was all that Stephane had time to think of before he got pushed back into the comfort room.
That was what- okay, Stephane couldn't tell- some minutes ago. And he was glad he had the excuse of being young (therefore horny) because he does not know how else to explain what happened back there. He hoped he didn't make noise; he honestly couldn't remember. All he remembered thinking were 'Jesus, there' and 'Ohgodohgod' and 'Where did you buy your shades?'
It probably wasn't suspiciously long but the little boy with the PSP kept waggling his eyebrows at him. Stephane couldn't tell what was more terrifying: that a little boy had caught him or that a little boy knew what he had been up to.
--
Stephane was bouncing on one foot to the other, excited to be in New York for the first time, excited to see Chris after so many months, excited to meet new people. Stephane hoped he read the map correctly- directions were never his advantage, unless one meant choreography. He was alone in the station but he did not mind. The morning air was crisp and even it smelled foreign. Stephane closed his eyes and took a deep breathe. The sudden entrance of cigarette smoke into his nose made him cough and open his eyes. Beside him stood Big Shades. Huh, a small world New York must be, Stephane concluded.
"Salut, I am Stephane." Stephane had his arm outstretched, expecting the other man to take it and perhaps give his name too. "I am here to visit my brother," he added.
Instead, all he got was another raised eyebrow. The shades were pushed back and again, he was greeted by the green eyes instead.
"Hello Stephane. Good bye Stephane." Big Shades blew out a long drawl of smoke at his face and took a couple of steps away. Stephane wrinkled his nose and waved it off. His pere used to smoke using a pipe; as a child, Stephane would run his hands over the polished wood, wondering how pere could make smoke come out by blowing one end, when he couldn't. When he wasn't wondering about that, he was laughing as pere would imitate le Sherlock Holmes with a puff of smoke and an "Elementary, my dear Coccinelle", with every question he had had.
"I am curious to know your name," Stephane said to his- uhm, friend? He did not know the, eh, protocol for these situations. The shades were back down again but Stephane felt like he was being given a once over.
"You ruined this, you know," Big Shades replied. He put his cigarette out on the trash can beside him.
"Moi? How?"
"Now I'll always think of you as Stephane this French guy with the most ridiculous sweater, that I banged in the airplance. You could have been a Gabriel- Well, you're name is already nice, I guess. But you could have been a spy or a runaway convict or maybe a drunken illusion." Stephane frowned. He loved his sweater- ladybugs were very lucky and his maman had made this sweater for him last Christmas.
"I am not French," he corrected. "I am Swiss. And if you do not mind me adding, you are looking much like a ladybug too." It was true. Big Shades wore a red trenchcoat that rested until his knees. Stephane knew that underneath that was a tight black shirt and equally tight dark denim. The shades themselves could pass off as bug eyes, although Stephane was pretty sure he had never had a ladybug look at him with such want. He blushed, remembering the pale, soft skin underneath those clothes. How muscles twitched as he ran his fingers over his stomach and lower-
Big Shades snorted but otherwise opted to ignore him as the train arrived. The doors slide apart; both men stepped aside to give space for the crowd getting out before getting in. Out of habit (for his parents always told him to be helpful when he could be and, he might as well, since, you know, their airplane escapade), Stephane reached for the duffel bag Big Shades brought, with the intention to carry it for him. Big Shades waved his helping hand away.
"I'm not a girl, in case you forgot that it was my dick you were swallowing," Big Shades remarked. "Also, I abhor you thinking that I resemble some insect. Just so you know," Big Shades added, as he took a seat.
"But- but they are adorable!" Stephane protested. He pouted. No one had ever told him their dislike toward ladybugs. "And lucky," he added. Stephane wrapped his arms around the pole, prefering to stand than to sit next to the brute. This worked well with Big Shades, who went back to his music and brooding. The train slowed down to a stop and a voice coming from the intercom welcomed them to (NEW YORK PLACE) and to please step aside for passengers who need to get out, thank you and have a nice day.
Big Shades stood up and again, out of habit, Stephane reached for the duffel bag. This time, Big Shades let him and took it as he stepped out. Surprisingly, he gave Stepane a small smile, the first kind expression he had seen on the other man.
"Good bye Stephane," he said, with something like finality, as though he was positive that they would never see each other again. With a place as busy as New York, why not? Big Shades turned away, his red coat standing out amongst the sea of black and brown suits.
--
"Chris!"
Stephane dropped his bag and opened his arms to embrace his brother in a tight hug.
"Oof! You are getting too old for bear hugs," his brother joked, pulling awayto pick up the dropped bag. "Welcome to New York!" he greeted, extending his hand to gesture to the crowded streets, the honking cabs, the ().
Stephane threw his head back and laughed. "I cannot wait to become acquainted with every nook and cranny," he promised. "But first, you must tell me, little brother, how is our lawyer, hm?"
Chris was tall, just like Stephane but blond like Sylvia. He did have Stephane's eyes, which twinkled as he turned and gestured for someone (a girl, he noted. With pretty red hair and, he gulped, very green eyes) to come over.
"Stephane, this is Daphne. Daphne, my brother, Stephane," Chris introduced them to one another. Instead of shaking Daphne's outstretched hand, Stephane wrapped her in one of his hugs. He pulled her back and kissed her on the cheek. "Daphne! You are prettier than Chris tells me! It is very good to finally meet you!" Daphne blushed, thanked him, telling him how nice it was to meet
him as well and oh, Chris has told me so much about you.
Stephane toned down his smile and wrapped his arm around his brother. Now, it felt like home.
7 years ago
This story starts in an airport- perhaps a location a little too cliche, what with the lovers reuniting in each other's arms, mothers and fathers crouching down to ruffle their son's or daughter's head, giving them a sweet kiss on the forehead (the more passionate ones saved for their spouse, and thankfully, only later, when the children have been put to bed) and strangers, lunging to grab a suitcase and apologizing, sorry, I think you've got the wrong luggage, their fingers touching, enough to send a spark, an interest and an excuse to look at each other.
In this case, our strangers do not meet each other. At least, not in the airport; not yet, it's too soon. Not formally either because they will not realize that this is already their cue.
Stephane clutched for dear life as his sister swerved into the small space between two cars. He valued life, especially when it was his sister who was behind the wheel. He got out, holding onto the strap of his messenger bag, as if he was still in the car.
"Maman better not know you drive like that," he kidded. "Goodness knows how many times my heart jumped right onto the dashboard."
"Shut up Stephane!" Sylvia scrunched up her nose, in the same manner someone with her age would if they had to miss out the latest episode of whatever it is kids her age watched just to drive their older brother to the airport.
Stephane merely chuckled and leaned in to ruffle his sister's hair. "Take care," he said. Sylvia stuck out her tongue and Stepane stuck out his, in retaliation. Once he got his duffel bag, he waved good bye as she pulled out and drove back into the road, honking at a couple of cars to get out of the way as she sped up. Stephane waited until he couldn't see her car anymore before turning to enter the airport. He adjusted the camera resting against his chest and nodded at the guards after they frisked him.
--
New York.. New York- ah there! Stephane looked at his ticket and back at the digital board. Thirty minutes before boarding time. Stephane took a seat on one of the plastic chairs and tinkered with the camera settings. He (cam thing) and used it to look around, surveying the people around him. On another row, a man and his son? nephew? were seated, both peering at the little boy's PSP. He turned around and there was a young lady, indulging a last minute phone call. Stephane pointed his camera at the boarding gate.
There, facing opposite the gates, was a man, who looked like his age. Big, round shades hid his eyes. He had earphones on, which probably meant he was tapping his foot in time with the music, although to Stephane, it looked like he was stomping the ground, trying to break the cement.
He clicked his camera and took a few experimental shots. If he was careful, he would have enough film to last him until the rest of the trip. When he looked up, Big Shades was seated across him. His shades was pushed back as a headband, revealing green eyes. Not to mention watery, but Stephane did not think he had the right to ask if he was all right.
Big Shades looked right back at him, an eyebrow perched in a haughty manner, that made Stephane realize he was staring. With a sheepish grin, he averted his eyes, trying to forget how attractive he actually found Big Shades.
--
Stephane stretched in the limited space of the airplane comfort room. He was a restless person and cramped spaces made him feel so tiny. There was a knock on the door; Stephane contemplated lieing that he was taking a shit but that sounded disgusting. With a weary sigh, he opened the door to reveal Big Shades minus the shades and that was all that Stephane had time to think of before he got pushed back into the comfort room.
That was what- okay, Stephane couldn't tell- some minutes ago. And he was glad he had the excuse of being young (therefore horny) because he does not know how else to explain what happened back there. He hoped he didn't make noise; he honestly couldn't remember. All he remembered thinking were 'Jesus, there' and 'Ohgodohgod' and 'Where did you buy your shades?'
It probably wasn't suspiciously long but the little boy with the PSP kept waggling his eyebrows at him. Stephane couldn't tell what was more terrifying: that a little boy had caught him or that a little boy knew what he had been up to.
--
Stephane was bouncing on one foot to the other, excited to be in New York for the first time, excited to see Chris after so many months, excited to meet new people. Stephane hoped he read the map correctly- directions were never his advantage, unless one meant choreography. He was alone in the station but he did not mind. The morning air was crisp and even it smelled foreign. Stephane closed his eyes and took a deep breathe. The sudden entrance of cigarette smoke into his nose made him cough and open his eyes. Beside him stood Big Shades. Huh, a small world New York must be, Stephane concluded.
"Salut, I am Stephane." Stephane had his arm outstretched, expecting the other man to take it and perhaps give his name too. "I am here to visit my brother," he added.
Instead, all he got was another raised eyebrow. The shades were pushed back and again, he was greeted by the green eyes instead.
"Hello Stephane. Good bye Stephane." Big Shades blew out a long drawl of smoke at his face and took a couple of steps away. Stephane wrinkled his nose and waved it off. His pere used to smoke using a pipe; as a child, Stephane would run his hands over the polished wood, wondering how pere could make smoke come out by blowing one end, when he couldn't. When he wasn't wondering about that, he was laughing as pere would imitate le Sherlock Holmes with a puff of smoke and an "Elementary, my dear Coccinelle", with every question he had had.
"I am curious to know your name," Stephane said to his- uhm, friend? He did not know the, eh, protocol for these situations. The shades were back down again but Stephane felt like he was being given a once over.
"You ruined this, you know," Big Shades replied. He put his cigarette out on the trash can beside him.
"Moi? How?"
"Now I'll always think of you as Stephane this French guy with the most ridiculous sweater, that I banged in the airplance. You could have been a Gabriel- Well, you're name is already nice, I guess. But you could have been a spy or a runaway convict or maybe a drunken illusion." Stephane frowned. He loved his sweater- ladybugs were very lucky and his maman had made this sweater for him last Christmas.
"I am not French," he corrected. "I am Swiss. And if you do not mind me adding, you are looking much like a ladybug too." It was true. Big Shades wore a red trenchcoat that rested until his knees. Stephane knew that underneath that was a tight black shirt and equally tight dark denim. The shades themselves could pass off as bug eyes, although Stephane was pretty sure he had never had a ladybug look at him with such want. He blushed, remembering the pale, soft skin underneath those clothes. How muscles twitched as he ran his fingers over his stomach and lower-
Big Shades snorted but otherwise opted to ignore him as the train arrived. The doors slide apart; both men stepped aside to give space for the crowd getting out before getting in. Out of habit (for his parents always told him to be helpful when he could be and, he might as well, since, you know, their airplane escapade), Stephane reached for the duffel bag Big Shades brought, with the intention to carry it for him. Big Shades waved his helping hand away.
"I'm not a girl, in case you forgot that it was my dick you were swallowing," Big Shades remarked. "Also, I abhor you thinking that I resemble some insect. Just so you know," Big Shades added, as he took a seat.
"But- but they are adorable!" Stephane protested. He pouted. No one had ever told him their dislike toward ladybugs. "And lucky," he added. Stephane wrapped his arms around the pole, prefering to stand than to sit next to the brute. This worked well with Big Shades, who went back to his music and brooding. The train slowed down to a stop and a voice coming from the intercom welcomed them to (NEW YORK PLACE) and to please step aside for passengers who need to get out, thank you and have a nice day.
Big Shades stood up and again, out of habit, Stephane reached for the duffel bag. This time, Big Shades let him and took it as he stepped out. Surprisingly, he gave Stepane a small smile, the first kind expression he had seen on the other man.
"Good bye Stephane," he said, with something like finality, as though he was positive that they would never see each other again. With a place as busy as New York, why not? Big Shades turned away, his red coat standing out amongst the sea of black and brown suits.
--
"Chris!"
Stephane dropped his bag and opened his arms to embrace his brother in a tight hug.
"Oof! You are getting too old for bear hugs," his brother joked, pulling awayto pick up the dropped bag. "Welcome to New York!" he greeted, extending his hand to gesture to the crowded streets, the honking cabs, the ().
Stephane threw his head back and laughed. "I cannot wait to become acquainted with every nook and cranny," he promised. "But first, you must tell me, little brother, how is our lawyer, hm?"
Chris was tall, just like Stephane but blond like Sylvia. He did have Stephane's eyes, which twinkled as he turned and gestured for someone (a girl, he noted. With pretty red hair and, he gulped, very green eyes) to come over.
"Stephane, this is Daphne. Daphne, my brother, Stephane," Chris introduced them to one another. Instead of shaking Daphne's outstretched hand, Stephane wrapped her in one of his hugs. He pulled her back and kissed her on the cheek. "Daphne! You are prettier than Chris tells me! It is very good to finally meet you!" Daphne blushed, thanked him, telling him how nice it was to meet
him as well and oh, Chris has told me so much about you.
Stephane toned down his smile and wrapped his arm around his brother. Now, it felt like home.